*Trigger Warning: self harm, eating disorders.

I’m cici,
And I’m an alcoholic.

This is my humble confession.

Control, I’ve found,
Is a farce.

It’s who you allow to dictate to you,
Or who you don’t.

It’s what you tell yourself
When you decide not to eat.
Or throw it all back up;

It’s bloody cuts
All over your body
You made yourself
Just because
You wanted it to show.

It’s teary eyes
And a stiff drink,
It’s a party
And a shot glass
And waking up empty
And telling yourself
You like it.

Rinse and repeat.

I’ve been searching for control
All my life.

The real truth is,
I am powerless.

[Step 1.]
I am powerless over alcohol
And my life has become unmanageable.

Tuesday [1.13.15]
I got my first chip.

I thought I’d feel regret.
I thought I’d be ashamed.

I was wrong.

I felt validated.
This thing- it’s a disease.
I’m not crazy.
I just need help.

So I’m seeking it-
And even better-
I’ve found it.

I have never felt
More acceptance
Or understanding
In my life.

And, all this,
From a group of strangers.

All of them,
Welcoming me, hugging me,
Giving me their phone numbers.
And I was happy.

It was uplifting,
All the incredible honesty.
Not an ounce of pride
Or shame
Or judgment
In the entire room.

And, and hour later,
I was changed.

I haven’t had a drink
Since January 10th.

And the amazing thing is
I don’t want one.

Since I started at 14,
I’ve never not wanted a drink.

I feel reborn,
I feel happier than a bottle
Ever made me.

I feel hope.
Not just hope
For the idea of something better,
But actual,
Visceral hope.

Because
It’s in my hands now.

And they’ve stopped shaking.

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